I passed the barns, outbuildings, and Quonset huts, and parked on the gravel drive in front of the main house. It was a solid three-story affair with elegant columns, seated on top of a hill with a commanding view of the countryside. In the distance I saw a platoon double-timing it along a road. Closer to the house, GIs were climbing a short wooden tower, then jumping onto a pile of hay, bending their knees and rolling, while an instructor barked at them to hurry up. A corporal threw me a salute on his way into the headquarters.“Where can I find your commanding officer?” I asked as I returned the salute.“Captain Sobel is inspecting the service company, sir. Take the path around the back.”I followed the path, marked by the white-painted stones the army loves so much. At the rear of the house, near a row of hedges that might once have bordered an elegant garden, lines of GIs stood four rows deep. I could make out a tall officer walking the ranks, a sergeant trailing him with a clipboard.
